


Summer Nights

by Zaeli_Echo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (just hinted at), Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, And a shameless flirt, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bees, Boys getting filthy, Breaking the Fourth Wall, But doesn't know what to do when Michael flirts with him and turns into a bowl of pudding, Cas is reserved, Castiel Has Panic Attacks, Charlie and Jo ship EVERYONE, Dean Saves The Day, Dean Winchester Loves Chick-Flicks, Dean is head over heels after like three minutes, F/F, I can feel it in my eyebrows, I'm really bad at tagging, Literal dirt, Luci and Gabe are good big brothers, Luci flirts with literally EVERYONE, Luci is a total fangirl, M/M, Mack is Metatron, Metatron Being a Dick, Multiple Pairings, Naomi is a slut, Not Beta Read, POVs change chapterly, Ratings may change, Sam Has Panic Attacks, Slow Build, Slow Burn, This will end up crazy fluffy, Uriel (Supernatural) Being an Asshole, and a Forceful shipper, because they are highschool-age boys spending the summer at a lake, but - Freeform, but he'll never admit it, poor babies, so it's okay, there is no fourth wall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaeli_Echo/pseuds/Zaeli_Echo
Summary: (Title sounds like porn but it's not - at least not yet. IDK.)-Dean's dad sent him and Sam off to summer camp for a while with no prior notice. Dean is lodged in a two-bed cabin with this heartthrob of a boy. Damn his luck that this Castiel character was his type.-Castiel's father decided he would likely function better if he could get Lucifer and Gabriel out of his hair for the summer, and Castiel finds his reasoning perfectly logical, but he doesn't understand why his father sent him with, or why this green-eyed cabinmate of his is /so/ intriguing.-(Anyone who recognized where I got the Chapter and overall fic titles, I salute you)~~~*FIC TEMPORARILY ON HIATUS*





	1. There are Worse Things I could Do

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to update this story as often as possible, but inspiration is elusive for me, and I don't tend to have time to use it when it does strike. If you have any ideas, suggestions, or somewhat-sensitive comments/questions/concerns, please contact me at my Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yodel-it-from-the-mountaintop

  “Good evening. May I help you with that?”

A low gravelly voice snapped Dean Winchester out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see who had addressed him.

A silhouette stood in the doorway, dark against the mellow gold light that spilled out from behind him. Dean guessed he was about six foot, give or take an inch, and had broad sloping shoulders and short-ish slightly-scruffy hair.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you.” Dean managed to get out. He handed over the bag, feeling somewhat out of his element. Although he would never admit it, the silhouette made him feel rather intimidated, even if he was an inch or two shorter than Dean himself. He played it off with (what he hoped was) a confident smirk.

  “It’s my pleasure. Please don’t feel obligated to be polite. My family says I tend to scare people off by being so… How do they put it? Stick-up-the-ass?” The figure chuckled, shaking his head. “My name is Castiel Novak, but people tend to think that’s a mouthful, so you can shorten it however you like. Don’t be shy about it, I’m not easy to offend.” Castiel walked into the cabin Dean assumed he would be sharing with him, still chuckling.

  “Okay then, Cas it is. My name’s Dean Winchester. Not sure how you can shorten that, but I leave it to ya’.” He followed Cas into the cabin, nickname already decided. “Dibs on the northern bed!” He cried, meeting Cas’s amused gaze as he plopped on said cot with a laugh and Cas placed Dean’s bag at the foot of it.

 _Damn, he’s got some gorgeous eyes_. Dean thought, quirking an eyebrow laughingly and enticing another chuckle from his new cabin-mate. They really were bewitching. Almost unbelievably blue, but shot through with streaks of dark silver, and framed by a curtain of long dark lashes that brushed his cheeks as he closed his eyes.

  “So, Cas. What brings you to spend your summer at camp unpronounceable-lake-name?” Dean spoke after about a minute or two of comfortable silence.

  “My father sent me and my two brothers here to ‘branch out’. We go to a private school by his insistence and he gets fussy when we don’t spend much time with friends. A touch silly of him.” Cas made a face, glancing at his desk, where an array of notebooks was arranged across it with military precision.

  “That’s bullshit.” Dean grimaced. “Oh, I guess I should warn you, I don’t have the cleanest of vocabularies.”

Cas laughed again.

_He’s got a damn nice laugh too, for that matter._

  “I’m not offended. My oldest brother was named after the devil, and if he hasn’t taken up the persona, then pigs fly.” The dark-haired boy claimed, face twisted into a small smile.

  “Pfft. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. Two brothers, and one is the embodiment of Satan? Rough.” Dean snorted. “How old are you anyway? You don’t act like a highschooler, but you can’t be too much older than I am, and I’m a Junior.” Dean’s curiosity was far from satisfied. This Cas kid acted like he was thirty-something and raised by the Queen of Canada (IDK, people in Canada are supposed to be crazy polite), but he didn’t look all that old. Twenty, tops.

Cas cocked his head at him, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

  “I’m sixteen and a Junior. I don’t know how old you are, but by approximation, I’d say seventeen.” The end of the sentence had a slight upward lilt, almost questioning.

Dean stared at the boy across from him for a moment, slightly bewildered.

  “Wait. You said you’re _sixteen?_ ” Dean’s tone was incredulous.

  “Yes. I was born October twenty-first of 2000. Is that hard to believe?” Cas’s head was still tilted to the right and he continued to look very befuddled.

  “Wha- yeah! I would have thought you were at _least_ eighteen or nineteen. You certainly look it.” Dean was sure his eyebrows were floating somewhere above his head he was so surprised.

Cas chewed on the inside of his lip thoughtfully.

  “I suppose my demeanor would reflect a more advanced age and schooling. Then again, I don’t go to your typical run-of-the-mill type highschool. It’s a possibility that the reason I seem older is because Shurley Heights Academy expects its students to act like twenty-year-olds by fourth grade.” Cas glanced towards the door, still looking lost in his thoughts.

A loud crackling announced the intervention of the intercom speakers in the cabin.

  “Alright ya Idjits, for those of you who were dragged here without reading the pamphlet, Curfew is every night at eleven o'clock. You are allowed to stay up as late as you’d like, but there is to be nobody outside their cabins after curfew. I will announce it when curfew rolls around, and anybody caught outside their cabin later than it would take to get there will be subject to whatever cruel and unusual punishment Raphael comes up with when I wake him up at 2 in the morning., and I highly doubt you would enjoy anything he comes up with at that time. Good night.” The intercom shut off with a crackle.

Cas glanced at Dean, face devoid of his earlier thoughtfulness.

  “I don’t know about you, but I have had a long day. Would you mind if I went to bed?” Piercing blue eyes watched as Dean reached for his own lamp, flicking it off deftly.

  “I’m exhausted, man. You don’t need to tell me twice. I sleep in my boxers, so you’re welcome to the bathroom. Goodnight Cas.” He smiled, peeling his shirt off, shucking his pants, and climbing under the - undeniably comfortable - quilt and sheets.

 _You always sleep in pajamas._ An unhelpful corner of his mind whispered. _Why abandon that now?_

Honestly, Dean didn’t have an answer for himself as he drifted off into a sleep that smelled faintly of pine and clover.

  
~


	2. NOT A CHAPTER -- TRIGGER WARNING FOR NEXT CHAPTER

PROCEED WITH CAUTION  
\---

ATTEMPTED RAPE/NON-CON AND PANIC ATTACKS IN NEXT CHAPTER

\---  
PROCEED WITH CAUTION


	3. Greased Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: ATTEMPTED RAPE/NON-CON, HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE, PANIC ATTACKS  
> \---  
> Okay, so, I've never written anything triggering before, so if this is way off, please tell me. I'm only vaguely aware of what happens during a panic attack, so I may have it all wrong. If so, please please tell me so I can fix it.  
> \---  
> Camp, Day #1, Perspective: Castiel

Castiel Novak couldn’t tell you why he was so nervous about meeting his cabin-mate. Perhaps it was that he was four hours late and counting, and he was dreading that maybe the boy he would be stuck with for the next he-forgot-how-long would be forgetful and uncoordinated. That would  _ really _ suck. A knock on the door made Castiel surface from his dreads as he stood to answer it.

  “Good evening. May I help you with that?” Castiel noticed the boy’s green eyes focus, almost as if his mind had been wandering. He held out a hand for the bag the boy outside the cabin door was holding.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you.”  The taller boy shifted on his feet, smirking confidently, but reached up to play with the heavy golden charm on his necklace.

_ A tell. Must be a nervous habit. He likely doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. _ Castiel noted that and tucked it away for future reference.

  “Please don’t feel obligated to be polite.” Castiel stated, not wanting to intimidate his cabin-mate with his ingrained tendencies. “My family says I tend to scare people off by being so…”  _ How do they say it? _ Castiel mused, not realizing he asked it out loud. “Stick-up-the-ass?” He laughed, shaking his head. The phrase had come from Lucifer - his oldest brother - and had sort of stuck, much to Castiel’s annoyance.

_ Oh! I forgot to introduce myself! Where are my manners? _ Castiel could imagine his father’s put-upon frown at such a faux-pas.

  “My name is Castiel Novak, but people tend to think that’s a mouthful, so you can shorten it however you like. I’m not easy to offend.” He kicked himself mentally for adding the last part. This kid was a  _ highschooler! _ There is no way he’d take that as anything but a challenge to try and offend the private school student.

To Castiel’s relief, there was no hint of malicious intent in the boy’s next words.

  “Okay then, Cas it is. My name’s Dean Winchester. I don’t know how you could shorten that, but I leave it to ya’.” Dean laughed, seeming like his nervousness was wearing off. The smile on his face looked less forced as he plopped on the bed on the far wall of the cabin with a shout of “Dibs on the northern bed!”. Castiel glanced at him, eyes glowing with amusement, and met an equally laughing green gaze.

_ I’ve rarely seen anyone with eyes that green. Remarkable. _ Castiel thought, setting Dean’s bag on the foot of his chosen bed and padding quietly across the floor to his own, where he sunk onto it with a small sigh.

A not-uncomfortable quiet pervaded the cabin as Dean put his clothes away in the trundle dresser. Castiel would call it silence, but  it was laced with the quiet murmuring babble of insects and the soft rustle of wind in the new summer leaves.

  “So, Cas, what brings you to spend your summer at camp unpronounceable-lake-name?” Dean broke the not-quite-silence. Castiel smothered a laugh at the other boy’s surprisingly accurate description.

   “My father sent me and my two brothers here to ‘branch out’. We go to a private school by his insistence and he gets fussy when we don’t spend much time with friends. A touch silly of him.”  _ more like hypocritical. _ Castiel didn’t say the last part aloud, but it was somewhat pulled right from his head by Dean’s next words.

  “That’s bullshit.” He pulled a face a moment or two after realizing what he said. “Oh, I guess I should warn you, I don’t have the cleanest of vocabularies.” He grinned sheepishly. 

Castiel didn’t bother to cover his laugh this time as an image of his brothers sprung unbidden to the forefront of his mind. Lucifer had risen to live fully the way his name suggested, and Gabriel was like a tiny sweet-toothed midget version of Lucifer.

  “I’m not offended. My oldest brother was named after the devil, and if he hasn’t taken up the persona, then pigs fly.” Castiel laughed. His father was definitely sane enough to send he and his brothers away. They were bad enough during the school year, but outside of it? Gabe and Luci were absolute monsters.

  “Pfft. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full. Two brothers, and one is the embodiment of Satan? Rough.” Dean snorted. He paused for a moment, seemingly pondering something.“How old are you anyway? You don’t act like a highschooler, but you can’t be too much older than I am, and I’m a Junior.” That was a question Castiel had been expecting. It tended to come up no matter who he was talking with, and his response was almost always one of surprise.

    ““I’m sixteen and a Junior. I don’t know how old you are, but by approximation I’d say seventeen.” Castiel was rarely too far off in his age ‘guesstimations’ , as Gabriel called them.

He wasn’t disappointed by the look of utter shock that fell like a curtain over the other boy’s features.

  “Wait, you said you’re sixteen?” The incredulity that masked Dean’s features also dripped from the words.

Castiel nodded an affirmative, but decided it would not hurt to elaborate.

  “Yes. I was born October 21 st of 2ØØØ. Is that hard to believe?” Castiel knew the answer to that question, but every person’s response came with different reasoning, and gave him a touch of insight into the new person he was speaking to.

  “Wha- yeah! I would have thought you were at least eighteen or nineteen. You certainly look it.” Dean spluttered, eyebrows raised. They would be hidden in his dark blonde fringe if said fringe wasn’t spiked in a short sassy peak on the crown of his forehead.

_ So he bases  his first impressions on looks. Interesting. _ Castiel let his gaze wander over Dean’s clothes and other visual qualities.  _ What would he want others to draw from  _ his _ appearance? _

Dean didn’t seem to be dressed in any remarkable fashion. He wore a snug crew-neck tee and dark blue skinny-jeans. Pretty typical outfit for a highschool-age boy. Was he trying to avoid unwanted attention? Castiel cast his gaze back to his desk, strewn with his collection of notebooks, each with a different purpose and set of contents. This new anomaly was intriguing. 

_ Good. I always like a good puzzle. _ Castiel forced his face to remain studiously blank.

  “I suppose my demeanor would reflect a more advanced age and schooling. Then again, I don’t go to your typical run-of-the-mill type highschool. It’s a possibility that the reason I seem older is because Shurley Heights Academy expects its students to act like twenty-year-olds by fourth grade.” Castiel frowned, glancing at the solid door as a blatant crackle announced the engagement of the page-system installed in the corner of the cabin. 

  “Alright ya Idjits--” Castiel lost interest right about there, having gotten to camp before Director Singer had given the initial spiel he was about to go into. Curfew is to be obeyed, yadda yadda yadda, Raphael is cantankerous in the mornings, all that good stuff. After a while, the pager shut off with another irritating crackle of static.

Castiel looked back at Dean, who had seemingly been watching him intently, as he glanced away, a barely-there flush crawling down his ears.

_ That’s another tell. So that makes ears and fidgeting with necklace. Noted. _ Castiel cleared his throat inaudibly.

  “I don’t know about you, but I have had a long day. Would you mind if I went to bed?” Castiel picked his formality back up, meeting Dean’s gaze steadily as the corner of the older boy’s mouth twitched and he flicked off his lamp without breaking eye contact.

  “I’m exhausted, man. You don’t need to tell me twice. I sleep in my boxers, so you’re welcome to the bathroom. Goodnight Cas.” The smile never left his face as he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, breathing a rather contented-sounding sigh.

_ How odd. He’s covered in freckles… and scars. _ Castiel’s subconscious filed that away for another time. Another conversation.  _ Definitely not a topic for eleven-thirty at night with a stranger you met ten minutes ago. _ Castiel shot one more look at his assortment of notebooks before retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before bed.

Castiel watched himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Every movement was almost robotic. He hated that he was so mechanical, but he didn’t know what else to do. Familiar commonalities had always been foreign to him. Relaxed conversation was a longshot. Even a friendly greeting was a stretch for his social capabilities. In meeting Dean Winchester, Castiel had immediately noticed his social comfortability. He knew what to do in almost any social situation, and was constantly involved and accepted. This was what caused Castiel to notice his own stiffness, his own awkward tendencies.Father never said why he had wanted Castiel to be so ramrod-straight and stiffly formal. He had never allowed anything but the utmost respect to be expressed for anyone, no matter if they be a stranger or an old enemy. He had no window of reference for any type of non-formal interaction. Watching his own choreographed movement in the mirror, Castiel made a decision. He would not become the self-righteous politician his father wanted him to be. He knew all too well the limitations of mortality, and thus knew that once your chance is gone, it won’t reappear. As the soft breathing of his new cabinmate relaxed into the heavy sighs of REM sleep, Cas re-emerged from the washroom, admittedly very tired, but determined that he could change.

 

[-----]

The next Day

[-----]

 

Castiel startled awake at the obnoxious crackle of the pager system as it sprang to life, blasting a very loud rendition of reveille, probably meant to rouse any still-sleeping residents from their beds. Castiel groggily checked his watch.

_ 9:00 am _ the digital display read.

  “Oh, come on Bobby. Not this.” Castiel heard Dean grumble. He sat up, rubbing his face muzzily, and glanced over at the bed across the floor. It was empty and already made with the kind of precision you’d expect to see from someone who is used to waking up to a military-style song. Castiel glanced around the cabin and spotted Dean hopping around the room on one foot, the other stuck in the leg of his blue jeans. He glanced up as he managed to shimmy them on and shot him a grin. “Mornin’ sunshine. Sleep well?”

Castiel furrowed his brows at the greeting, but decided not to overthink it.

  “I slept quite well. The sheets are very comfortable.” He replied smoothly, trying to match the easy tone in the older boy’s voice.

  “I know, right?  _ Way _ better than the ones at the old place. Bobby insisted that we get better linens for this one.” Dean shuffled around in the drawers under his cot,looking for a suitable shirt. In doing this, he gave Castiel a full view of his bare back. 

_ Impressive. _ Castiel stopped himself from giving an appreciative whistle as he observed the older boy’s toned figure. He had broad, even shoulders and a solidly-built torso. Dean shifted to reach up for something on the cot, and a ball of muscle that had previously been out of sight tensed and coiled with the motion, making the smattering of freckles shift. On a whim, Castiel reached over and snagged a hard-cover green notebook off his desk, jotting in it with a pencil quickly, and flipping it closed as Dean stood up with his prize. He slipped the black crew-neck tee over his head and turned around as Castiel set the notebook back on his desk.

Cas forced himself to remain calm and composed as Dean shot a suspicious look at the notebook, gaze flicking between it and the pencil in Castiel’s right hand.  _ What is it about this boy that makes me so jumpy? _ Castiel made a face and tried to comb his hair out of its messy bed-head state before giving up and disappearing into the bathroom to change.

Five minutes later, Castiel emerged, freshly shaved and dressed in his usual white button-up and tan trench coat.

  “Oh Cas, buddy. You’re not going out in  _ that, _ are you?” Dean glanced at Castiel and raised his eyebrows, shaking his head.

  “This is practically all I have. I wish my father would allow for other things, but for now I am restricted to this outfit and others very similar to it.” Castiel squinted, slightly confused at the older boy’s reaction.

  “Your dad must be one helluva hardass.” Dean shook his head again and crouched next to his bed, tugging something from a couple of his drawers. “Here, these should fit. Your friend Dean -” he gestured to himself dramatically “- is gonna get you at least dressing like a junior at summer camp. Go get dressed. I’ll be waiting on the porch.” Dean tossed the bundle at Castiel and pointed to the bathroom door, before turning and sauntering out the front door.

Castiel looked at the bundle that he had caught. It contained a heather-grey tee and a pair of not-quite-loose blue jeans. He stared at them for a moment, before turning and walking into the bathroom. Unbuttoning his shirt, Castiel chanced a look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t often look at himself in the mirror, only to shave and occasionally to check that his outfit is up to his father’s standards. He had never seen anyone else shirtless - excluding this morning’s show from Dean - so he had no point of reference either. However be it, he slid the soft cotton shirt over his head, finding it to fit nicely, the fabric just barely stretching around his shoulders. He hummed to himself, finishing pulling on the well-worn jeans and lacing his broad black belt through the loops with practiced finesse.

  “You done in there, slowpoke?” Dean’s voice rung through the bathroom door, laced with amusement.

Castiel rolled his eyes - a habit he picked up from Gabriel - and  opened the door, only for the taller boy (who had apparently been leaning against it) to tumble into the small space, arms flailing helplessly.

  “Need some help there?”  Castiel attempted a light, teasing lilt, and apparently achieved it, seeing as Dean’s ears turned a fair shade of vermillion and he grumbled in response.

  “Quit teasing me and help me up, eh Cas?” He held out a broad hand, and Castiel took it, pulling the taller boy easily to his feet and earning an impressed eyebrow from Dean. “No wonder that tee is snug around the shoulders on you. Holy shit, kid, I weigh like one-eighty and you just helped me up like you were helping a toddler.” There was a note of incredulity in the older boy’s voice, but Castiel just shrugged. The movement felt alien, but seemed to be the natural thing to do.

  “The heights has both a gymnasium and a riding ring, both of which I use regularly.” Castiel returned nonchalantly, palm tingling slightly from helping Dean to his feet. The older boy’s hands - although long-fingered and nimble - were patched with thick callouses.

  “Well look at you then, mister sporty.” Dean laughed. “C’mon Cas, I worry if we don’t get to the pavilion, all the food’ll be gone. We don’t want that now, do we?” He ruffled Castiel’s hair with a playful grin and jogged out the front door, Castiel following at a more sedated pace.

Castiel pondered what he knew about Dean thusfar, The boy based first impressions on looks, but dressed and groomed to a plain, common image. He was covered in freckles - not bothering to hide them. His hands were calloused and scarred, but nimble. He had a pronounced callous on his right hand on the index side of his middle finger, so he was right-handed. He knew Head Counsellor Bobby Singer personally, and spoke of him fondly, almost how one would speak of a beloved uncle or grandfather. He seemed used to waking up to Reveille, and habitually makes his bed neatly. He’s not shy. He had a rather typical teenage vocabulary and isn’t shy to speak his mind.

  “Hey, Cas?”

Castiel was completely oblivious to Dean as the older boy called his name.

 “Cas! Come on back from La-La land, kiddo.” A light shake of his shoulder jolted Castiel out of his thoughts, but surprised him. He didn’t even remember lashing out.

As awareness washed back over him, he noticed that the knuckles on his right hand were throbbing, and the hand in question was clenched into a tight fist.

  “Jee-sus Cas. You throw a mean right hook, kiddo. Remind me not to surprise you again.” Castiel grimaced and shook out his hand, glancing at Dean, who was holding his jaw gingerly.

 “I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m used to my brothers doing that, a-and--” Castiel stuttered, suddenly afraid. He had seen how muscular the older boy’s shoulders were. 

  “Cas, buddy, calm down. I’m not mad. Sammy is the same way. I should have seen it coming.” Dean cut him off with a chuckle, still holding his jaw.

Castiel gave a sigh of relief.

  “Why were you trying to get my attention?” He changed the subject, still not sure Dean wasn’t angry.

  “Trying to get you out of your head, kiddo. You were walking right past the Pavilion. You just gave everyone quite the show too,” Dean grinned jerked a thumb over his shoulder, where the open walls of the pavilion showed a crowd of highschool-age boys and girls peering over to see what the commotion was.

Castiel scratched at the back of his neck - trying to fight off the embarrassed blush that was threatening to creep over the collar of the cotton shirt - and gave a sheepish grin, glancing up through his eyelashes at Dean, who was wearing an amused smile and a blue bruise that was already starting to bloom over the left corner of his jaw.

Without thinking, Castiel reached out and hesitantly turned Dean’s head so he could look at the blow more clearly. The older boy tensed at the contact, the muscles in his jaw bunching and knotting for a moment before he turned his head for his cabinmate  to admire his handiwork. Castiel skimmed his fingers gently over the patch of discolored skin, flinching when the older boy’s jaw clenched again. He drew back slowly, forehead creased with concern.

  “Let’s get to the pavilion and get some ice on that. It’ll help with the swelling. I’m really sorry.” Castiel turned on his heel and started back towards the building, only to be jolted to a halt by Dean grabbing his elbow. 

  “Kid, just calm down. I’m really not mad. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll ice it, but seriously. Don’t be worried. I’ve dealt with much worse.” There was calm reassurance in Dean’s voice, reflected in clear green eyes. He offered Castiel a small smile, freckles shifting across his cheeks as a dimple appeared with the smile.

Castiel nodded, returning the small smile, and padding back to the pavilion at a calmer pace, Dean in tow.

They got a lot of looks as they got in the buffet line, Dean just behind Castiel. Nobody said anything, but Castiel could feel their stares on him like tiny points of fire hovering inches from his skin and making the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

  “Don’t glance around. I know they’re all staring, but if you look, you’ll seem nervous. Just act cool and calm. Chin up, shoulders back, stance solid.” Dean rumbled behind him, voice low and quiet.

Castiel nodded in response, forcing his face to remain it’s usual expressionless mask. The stares lessened as he got through the buffet line, and he soon forgot about them, his mind entirely consumed on whether to choose apple or grape juice to go with his yogurt. It was a very important decision. That’s why he spent five minutes at the cooler weighing the options. He finally decided on cranberry juice (some girl named Meg suggested it), and paced over to the table where Dean sat next to a tall boy with shaggy brown hair and a mole next to his nose. He seated himself across from his cabinmate and nodded to the taller boy, who was currently laughing at something Dean had said while Castiel was out of earshot.

  “Cas, this is my kid brother, Sammy. Sammy, this is my hair-trigger sensitive cabinmate, Castiel.” Dean ruffled Sam’s shaggy hair, earning himself a punch in the arm from his brother and a sour face from Castiel.

  “Oh, Cassie~!” An all-too-familiar trill  sounded from over Castiel’s shoulder and he grimaced, resigned to his fate. An elbow rested on the top of his head - belonging to an unseen assailant - as Gabriel swaggered over a beat behind, with a bottle of chocolate milk in one hand and a loaded plate of waffles in the other. He plopped down next to Castiel and across from Sam, a wicked grin plastered across his ferrety features.

  “Lucifer, please remove your elbow from my head. You know that annoys me.” Castiel fought to keep a growl out of his voice as he addressed his oldest brother.

  “Oh, Cassie, I know it annoys you. That’s why I do it~” Lucifer teased, leaping gracefully over the table and seating himself in the seat  next to Dean, ice-blue eyes twinkling something just this side of terrifying.

  “Well, Cassie? Aren’t you going to introduce us? Where  _ are _ your manners?!” Gabriel chimed in, talking around a mouthful of syrup-soaked waffle.

Castiel gritted his teeth, forcing his voice to remain steady.

  “Dean, Sam, These are my troublesome brothers, Lucifer and Gabriel. Lucifer, Gabriel, these are Dean - my cabinmate- and Sam - his brother.

  “Heya Dean-o. Your brother is a sasquatch. Have you noticed that?” Gabriel laughed, the teasing trill having never left his voice.

Dean just chuckled in response.

  “And Cas, you never mentioned that your brothers consisted of a midget and a snake.” Sam chimed in cheekily from his spot across from Gabriel.

Dean laughed a bit louder as the smirk dropped from Gabriel’s face and was replaced by one of shock. Castiel allowed a small smile to creep across his face.

  “Which one’s which, Sam-a-lam?” An even bigger smirk stretched across the middle brother’s face, his tawny eyes narrowed in challenge.

  “You’re the midget, short stack. Luci over there’s the snake. I swear I saw a forked tongue.” Sam replied casually, shrugging,

  “I’m not short!” Gabriel squawked, looking affronted.

Sam just nodded. 

  “Okay then short stack, stand up and come over here.” The smirk stretched further across Sam’s face as Gabriel complied, standing up and walking around the table so that he stood right next to where Sam was sitting.

  “See? Not short.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat, obviously having seen people in this situation before.

  “Oh, yeah. Not that bad. Here, step back a touch.” Sam was fighting to conceal the smirk now.

  “Sure thing, Samster.” Gabriel - obviously oblivious to what was about to happen, took two steps back, a blissfully ignorant smirk stretching across his lips.

Sam turned around, swinging his legs to the back of the stool, and stood up, squaring his shoulders and unfolding his legs from where they had been crammed under the table. Gabriel kept his eyes fixed on Sam’s face, thus having to crane his head back as the taller boy stood and stretched.

  “Holy shit…” Gabriel murmured.

Sam threw back his head and laughed, a full, rolling sound. 

Castiel saw it right  then.

Gabriel ‘s entire demeanor shifted. His eyes widened imperceptibly. He squared his stance. A low glimmer appeared in his tawny eyes. He even shifted his weight forward slightly, leaning just a touch closer.

There was another low chuckle, and Castiel glanced over to see Dean watching his younger brother with an amused look.

  “I guess sasquatch fits me a little better now, huh?” Sam plopped back into his seat and turned back to his yogurt. “You’re also my cabinmate, but by the time I got there last night you were already asleep and you slept right past Reveille this morning. Thus, my cabinmate just met me.”

  “You betcha, Samsquatch.” Gabriel sat down next to him, back to the table and legs stretched out.

Lucifer had been watching the whole exchange with his icy eyes narrowed and a tiny smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked to Castiel and he kinked an eyebrow, questioning. They may not get along, but Castiel, Lucifer, and Gabriel - being brothers- could easily communicate through facial expressions. The question Lucifer was asking was clear.

_ You seeing what I’m seeing? _

Castiel responded with a wink and a glance side to side.

_ I am. But you know what? I’m seeing something you haven’t yet. _

That piqued the oldest brother’s interest, and he glanced over his shoulder. His shoulders stiffened, and his posture corrected itself from the relaxed slouch it had been in before.

A tall, dark-haired boy sat at a far table, surrounded by girls, but seemingly uninterested in them. He glanced up and spotted Castiel’s blonde-haired brother watching him. A slow grin spread across his chiseled features and he winked.

Castiel couldn’t help but smirk at Lucifer’s muffled sound of surprise, earning himself a glare that could freeze Hell over.

Lucifer glowered at his youngest brother, conveying a message clearly.

_ You breathe a word of this to  _ **_anyone_ ** _ , I’ll slit your throat. _

Castiel nodded, still smirking. He held up two fingers.

_ Scout’s honor. _

The crackle of the intercom interrupted whatever Lucifer was going to reply with. It squealed for a moment, before a low voice with a heavy scottish accent broke through the static.

  “Alright then boys and girls. My name is Crowley. I’m the short scandinavian counselor in the north corner of the pavilion. This will be your first full day at Camp Trajoix, so you will spend today getting acquainted with the lake and surrounding area. Don’t drown, kids. Drowning is bad for business. I’m shutting the buffet in t-minus five minutes. Shoo. Scram. Beat it. Make tracks.” The intercom shut off with another obnoxious crackle, and the pavilion sprang to life, campers bustling to throw out their garbage. 

  “Heya, Cas. Let’s start by cycling around clockwise.” Castiel dropped his yogurt cup in the landfill bin and turned around, nodding to the older boy.

  “You two go ahead.” Sam flapped a hand at his older brother when he glanced at him. “I’ll take midget here and go counterclockwise. Looks like Satan is busy.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, where a flustered-looking Lucifer was talking with the dark-haired boy from earlier.

  “Oh, that’s Michael. He goes to the Heights. Lucifer has been crushing on him for years.” Castiel explained with a small smile.

  “I’ll try not to lose your midget brother, Cas. No promises, though. He’s a hell of a lot shorter than me. Not sure if he’ll be able to keep up.” Sam raised his voice so that Gabriel - who was taking his plate to the wash-window - could hear. He squawked indignantly in response and threw a spoon at the younger Winchester. “Missed me, missed me!” Sam chanted mockingly.

  “Those two are like peas in a pod.” Castiel commented to Dean as Gabriel swaggered over and yanked Sam down to his level by his collar, saying something (too low for Castiel to hear) in his ear that made Sam’s eyebrows disappear into his fringe and dragged a laugh out of the taller boy.

  “Except for the height and diet differences, yeah.” Dean agreed and turned to walk out the east side towards the lake. “You want me to show you around? Bobby is sort of my adoptive father, so I know this place backwards and forwards and upside-down.”  He gave a little hop-skip as they reached the solid wood planks of the dock.

Castiel shook his head.

  “Great, ‘cause I’m gonna go for a swim.” He tugged off his shirt in a single move and slung it over a piling.

  “I’ll come join you in a moment. I’d like to change before I jump in.” Castiel shifted nervously as Dean eyed him curiously.

  “What, Cas? You afraid to show a little skin?” He teased, a grin stretched across his lips.

_ That’s part of it. _ An unhelpful corner of his mind whispered.

  “No, it’s just I - um, well…” Castiel stuttered.

  “C’mon, kid. Don’t be shy!” The grin spread wider.

  “I don’t want to mess up your clothes.” Castiel forced himself not to stutter this time.

All smugness and teasing fell from Dean’s smile and it softened, gaining sincerity.

  “Just take the shirt off and put it with mine. The jeans have seen worse. Don’t worry about them.”  Dean said, that quiet sweet smile still curling the left corner of his lips.

  “Thank you, Dean.” Castiel smiled back - albeit nervously - before lifting the hem of the shirt and pulling it over and off his shoulders.

There was no sound from the older boy as Castiel turned and draped the grey tee over the black one already on the post. When he turned back, Dean was watching him, lips parted imperceptibly.

  “Dean? Are you okay?” Castiel furrowed his brows in confusion, cocking his head.

  “Oh, uhm. Yeah, Cas. I’m fine.” The tips of Dean’s ears were burning pink again. He suddenly glanced over Castiel’s shoulder.

_ There’s obviously something he’s not telling you. _ That little unhelpful corner of his mind chirped.

  “Oh my God, Cas. Do you see that?” Castiel turned around to look, and was fully looking in the opposite direction when the breath was forced out of him, something solid and heavy ramming into his ribs from behind. A hoarse shout escaped his throat as he was thrown off the edge of the dock into the deep water off the end of the planks. He hit the water with what he could only imagine was a fairly impressive splash, but his head went under first, so he couldn’t hear.

Coming to his senses after the shock of the chilly water, Castiel’s body went into autopilot. He made it back to the surface in two strong strokes. When his head broke back into the air, he looked around. Dean was floating on his back just a few feet away, laughing loudly.

  “Oh man, Cas. Your face as you went under, man.  _ That  _ was priceless.” He howled, dipping his head back so that the water lapped over his hairline.

Castiel didn’t know whether to laugh or splash him in revenge. He settled on splash, which he did, smiling quietly as he sent a wall of water flying at his cabinmate.

Dean looked affronted and spat out some water.

  “Oh, Cas, buddy. You’re playing with fire.” His grin was almost predatory as he let himself drift upright.

An idea popped into Castiel’s mind, and he grinned right back at the older boy, swimming closer until he was right up against Dean’s muscular chest.

  “Fire doesn’t work too well underwater.”  He purred, before flipping over and diving. 

The water was murky enough that he only had to go down a couple feet to be out of sight. Castiel swam a couple laps around his cabinmate’s feet, before kicking hard and lifting himself out of the water behind a frantically spinning Dean.

  “Surprise!” He cried, before placing his hands on the older boy’s shoulders and shoving him underwater, pulling himself into a graceful in-and-out dive. He came back up after a moment, watching as Dean clawed his way back to the surface, spluttering and blinking as his head hit the air.

Dean’s eyes focused on Castiel, calmly treading water a few yards further out in the lake, and a wolfish grin spread across his face.

  “So that’s how you wanna play, huh?”  The grin never left the older boy’s face as he threw back his head and gave one long warbling yell. It wasn’t three seconds before an answering whoop echoed through the valley.

  “Really? Calling your brother?” Castiel teased. He was quickly getting used to this more relaxed form of speech.

Dean chuckled darkly, still grinning.

  “Most of the fellas here come almost every summer. They know me.” He trailed off as running footsteps approached the dock.

_ Oh no… _ Castiel heard the implication there. Dean hadn’t just called his brother. He had just called  _ everyone he knew _ .

Castiel pouted - another habit he picked up from his older brothers.

  “That’s fowl play. Can’t take me on your own?” Castiel injected the teasing tone back into his voice, but his heart was in his throat. He had never been this bold since, well, ever.

  “I could -- Incoming!!” He cut himself off, paddling out of the way as a ball of muscle came barreling off the dock and launched off the end with a hoarse whoop.

Castiel dove to avoid the splash as it landed a few feet in front of him. He stayed under to avoid being seen.

The figure came up a few moments later, laughing and shaking the water out of it’ eyes.

  “You called, brotha’?” The boy had some dark ginger scruff on his chin and short cropped hair.

  “Wrong direction, Benny.” Dean called as Benny turned toward the middle of the lake.

Benny spun the other direction, grinning.

  “Well, I s’pose you didn’t call just for the hell of it.”  He had a thick southern accent Castiel couldn’t place.  _ Alabamian? New Orleans? _

Dean chuckled. Castiel could hear the darker tones even clearer underwater.

  “Pretty much. I have a fish for a cabinmate, and I just decided to show him just how much he was playing with fire.” Dean said. still laughing.

Benny looked around, a confused expression on his face.

  “I don’t see ‘im.” He commented, perplexed.

  “Ah, but it’s the croc you don’t see that’s the dangerous one.” Castiel could practically  _ hear _ ‘cue Cas’ in that statement.

Thus, he took the unspoken cue, pulling the same manoeuvre he had on Dean, easily shoving the bigger boy under. Castiel stayed on top of the water this time, grinning as Benny popped up a moment later, coughing and spluttering.

  “Hello, Benny.” Castiel greeted the boy politely, false innocence dripping from the words.

Benny stared at Castiel for a moment, then glanced at Dean. He was quiet for a moment, before he threw his head back, howling with laughter. Castiel watched him warily, befuddled by this turn of events.

  “Oh boy. Dean, brotha’, I knew you had a type, but this is awful quick.” He guffawed.

Castiel cocked his head infinitesimally, confused.  _ Type? _

Benny noticed Castiel’s reaction, his eyes widened, and he started laughing even harder.

  “He goes to a private school. He didn’t even have any casual clothes. That’s why the clothes he’s wearing are mine.” Dean explained when Benny had finished laughing.

  “Look out below!” A new voice crowed, it’s owner coming flying off the end of the dock, followed by a smaller one, causing Cas to dive again.

A whoop sounded across the lake as the first shape resurfaced, the second following close behind.

  “Hey Dean, Benny. Why’d you call?” That was Sam’s voice, so that meant that the smaller shape must’ve been Gabriel.

  “Cas was playing with fire. I wanted to show him that this flame still burns in the water,” Dean gave the exact same speech, and Castiel did the exact thing as before to Sam. He ignored Gabriel, who knew what his little brother could do, and had latched onto the dock as soon as he heard Dean’s nickname for him.

  “Cas you sly dog.” Sam laughed after he had spat out the mouthful of water he had accidentally swallowed when Castiel pushed him under.

Castiel just let himself laugh outright, his own laughter melding with the hearty guffaws coming from Benny, the low chuckles spilling from Dean, and the high tittering giggles coming from his own brother, who had let go of the dock and was floating on his back a few feet from Castiel. Pounding footsteps announced the arrival of a newcomer.

  
[-----]  
Later on  
[-----]  
  
Sam laughed and slapped Cas on the shoulder, swimming back towards the dock. Cas allowed himself a low hum of appreciation as he watched the brothers’ shoulders ball and tense, flexing as they heaved themselves out of the water side by side up onto the dock.

  “Careful now, brotha’,” Benny commented, startling Castiel, who hadn’t heard the bigger boy approach.

Castiel forced his face and voice to remain neutral.

  “Careful of what?” He asked, cocking his head in faux-confusion, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing.

Benny just chuckled.

  “That.” 

When Castiel just blinked - this time legitimately confused - Benny shook his head, glancing down.

Castiel growled, frustrated at being so befuddled, but brushed it aside, heaving himself up easily and tucking his legs through to rise instantly to his feet, grabbing the shirt Dean had leant him and slipping it over his head.

A couple kids no older than twelve or thirteen were waiting for him at the end of the dock.

  “Hi! Can we talk to you for a minute?”  One of the girls asked, her curly blonde hair falling into her face as a swirl of wind ruffled the trees.

Castiel cocked his head at the trio, smiling faintly,

  “Of course. What can I do for you.” 

The blonde girl smiled brightly, showing just a hint of silver braces.

  “My name is Jo, this is Charlie-” She gestured at the little redhead to her right.

  “That’s me, bitches!” Charlie crowed happily, making finger guns at Castiel

  “- And this is Kevin.” Jo hip-checked the boy to her left.

Kevin gave a nervous wave.

  “I’m in Advanced Placement.” He said quietly.

Castiel smiled.

  “Someone as smart as you, of course you are.” He commented to Kevin.

  “How can you tell I’m smart?” Kevin challenged, shyness seemingly forgotten.

  “Well, you conduct yourself in a sensible manner, and I can see the ink marks on your hands.” Castiel reasoned, watching as Kevin nodded, seemingly appeased by the response.

  “So, mister observant, what’s your name?” Charlie asked, still grinning.

  “My name is Castiel, but you can call me Cas if you like.”

Jo smiled, and Castiel noticed that she had her hand linked with Charlie’s.

  “We wanted you to show us around. We arrived late last night, so we missed the grand tour. Could you?” Jo finally brought the conversation around to the topic it was  _ supposed _ to be on.

Castiel frowned, chewing on his lip.

  “ I don’t know my way around. There wasn’t a grand tour.” Castiel admitted, an apologetic frown on his face.

  “Heya, Cas. What’s the holdup?” A new voice commented, near startling poor Castiel out of his wits. He whirled around and barely managed to keep himself from taking another swing.

Dean was hovering behind Castiel’s right shoulder with a rather neutral expression on his face

  “You would have yourself another shiner for that. Do you forget that easily?” Castiel mumbled to Dean, keeping his voice low enough for the trio to not hear him.

A guilty expression blossomed on Dean’s face.

  “Sorry, Cas.” He whispered in response, grinning sheepishly.

  “It’s okay.” Castiel raised his voice so that the three younger kids could hear them. “These three want the grand tour. Could you help them out?”

Dean grinned at the trio.

  “You want the grand tour, huh?” He grinned at them. “My name is Dean. I can show you around.”

Kevin spoke up suddenly.

  “Can Cas come too?” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow, surprised at the boy’s request. He glanced at Dean, who was nodding, one corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile.

  “Of course Cas can come. I need to show him the ropes too.” He patted Castiel on the shoulder roughly, earning himself a hip-check and a laugh

  “Good. He’s smart,” Kevin nodded. “I’m sure he’ll pick it up quickly.” The dark-haired boy shouldered Charlie, who was talking to Jo quietly. “C’mon lovebirds, Dean’s gonna show us around.”

  “Alright bitches! Let’s go!” The redhead crowed enthusiastically, ruffling Kevin’s long black hair with a playful grin.

Dean chuckled, gesturing for the three of them to follow him and Castiel.

  “She’s like the little sister I never wanted,” He laughed to Castiel.

Castiel allowed himself a small smile in response. She did seem like she would get along just fine with the brothers.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached the pavilion.

  “I trust you already know where the pavilion and the cabins are, so I’ll take you east instead. The building on the lake is the boathouse. That’s where the boats, jetskis, paddleboards, fishing gear, all that stuff is kept.” Dean pointed at a solid-looking building was situated half-over-the-water. “I’ll tell you a secret: the biggest fish love to hide just under the docks in there.” He winked, putting a finger to his lips.

Jo giggled.

  “I’ll definitely put that to use, but it’s our little secret.”

Charlie hip-checked her playfully.

  “Not without me, you’re not.” She argued, grinning cheekily.

Dean chuckled under his breath again, watching them.

Honestly, Castiel couldn’t fathom the sudden need for his notebook. The urge to take down this moment, with Dean’s face in profile and a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. It wasn’t his usual cocky smirk, but something softer. The noon-time sun high overhead casting dramatic shadows below his high cheekbones and under his browline. Despite the heavy shadow, peridot-hued eyes still glowed, backlit by a darker green like the tops of the leathery green oak leaves. But the expression was focused on the two girls, each with a soft expression of adoration on their faces. His right hand itched for a pencil, or a pen, or  _ anything _ . 

How odd.

Deciding it would be best if he moved ahead a bit, Castiel left the four to enjoy the moment and meandered into the shade of a weeping cherry tree, it’s long spindly branched weighed down with fruit. Honestly, Castiel would have been quite happy to have stayed there.

Unfortunately, someone had other plans.

The rough crunch of multiple pairs of feet on gravel drew Castiel’s attention. Three figures drew closer, their featured hidden by bandannas.

_ Oh shit… _ Castiel thought, brain going into overdrive. This was a familiar situation.

  “Hiya, flit,”  One of the two behind the leader growled, voice slightly muffled by his blue hankey.

Castiel stayed quiet. He knew that anything he said, these three would twist into an insult or challenge.

  “Whatcha doin here, flit? I thought folk like you were too dainty to leave their perfect private school.” He continued, deceptively cheery-sounding.

  “I bet he came to break in those skinny jeans, Work some nice holes in the knees. God knows he spends a lot of his time on them,” The girl replied. “Such a shame he’s a fairy. I could cut myself on that jawline,” She hummed.

Castiel kept his eyes low and his mouth shut. There wasn’t much he could do at this point.

  “Hey, we’re talkin’ to you, flit.” The girl’s purr turned to a growl, and Castiel knew he was in trouble.

  “The jeans  _ are _ quite comfortable. I believe I wore them in at the riding ring the other day.” This was a lie, but he tried to keep his voice light and conversational, trying not to draw any aggression.

The leader laughed his annoying cackle, elbowing the other boy.

  “Hear that? In the  _ riding ring. _ What do you think? Classic or reverse cowgirl?” He guffawed.

  “Probably classic. Looks pretty vanilla to me.” The girl giggled maliciously.

They all collapsed into gales of laughter. Castiel bitterly reminded himself to stay within earshot of friends next time he wandered off.

  “I bet I could get him into bondage within fifteen minutes. Have him begging for a ball gag.” The leader smirked.

  “Ooh, I want to see that.” The bigger boy grinned, pulling a coil of rope out of the bag over his shoulder.

  “Come with us, flit. We’ll fix you right up.” The girl purred, tightening the drawstrings of her hood and beckoning him with one finger.

Castiel didn’t know what came over him, but something in him snapped, and he was shot through with a sudden spike of fury. This would simply not do.

  “Sorry, skank. I’m in fine working order, but thank you for your concern.” He snarled, rising to his feet in an easy motion, towering easily over the girl, who was about eight kinds of too close for comfort.

The bigger of the two boys stepped forward menacingly, the leader hanging back with his arms crossed.

  “ _ What _ did you just say,  _ flit _ .” He spat out that last word like it was something bitter on his tongue.

  “Oh, my apologies, I forgot that imbeciles can’t understand any word upward of a single syllable. I said no thanks.” Castiel spat right back, shoulders squared and tense.

The bigger boy snarled, taking another step forward. Now he was close enough that Castiel could smell his breath. He barely contained a laugh at the fact that it smelled like sex. And they were calling  _ him _ a fairy.

  “Very scary. Y’know, you should probably use mouthwash after you blow someone. Your breath stinks of it.” Castiel leaned back against the tree nonchalantly.

The bigger boy’s eyes widened, surprised, before they narrowed again.

  “You think you’re being smart, huh flit?” He growled, looming over Castiel, his stinking breath rolling over the smaller boy like a putrid wave.

Castiel coughed and fanned the air.

  “Nope, just observant,” Castiel reasoned, making a face.

He was caught up enough in vocally holding off the bigger boy that he didn’t notice the tail of a rope snaking around his waist until it was too late and it cinched tight, pushing a huff from him. The tree was too broad for him to reach around and untie himself, and he got the feeling it wouldn’t be that easy anyway.

The leader appeared from around the tree, dusting his hands off, and gave a sly grin, weaslish features hiding something gruesome.

  “Listen here, sugar. There’s only one way out of this for you, but I promise it won’t be painful.” The girl purred, eyes glittering dangerously.” Uriel, put him on the ground.” 

The bigger boy - Uriel - pressed roughly on Castiel’s shoulders until his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Better. Now, what’s your name, hon? I want to have a name to scream while I’m riding you.” She winked something saucy and sunk down so she was sitting on Castiel’s lap.

Castiel was starting to panic now, his brain furiously trying to work out a way out. It only vaguely registered that there was shouting coming from somewhere past his field of vision. Something about running to get Bobby and Crowley.

  “Answer me, babe.” She purred, grinding down on him. Unfortunately for her, Castiel was so disgusted and panicked that she probably didn’t feel anything at all.

Castiel’s heart was pumping faster than he could keep track of, the blood pounding furiously in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything that was going on, and his vision was darkening around the edges.

He didn’t even register when the weight was yanked off him. There was some muffled shouting, but it felt like someone stuffed cotton in his ears and turned the TV on static. The rope around his waist was released with a muffled snap - cut? - and he slumped to the side, panting and shivering. There was a sickening series of images playing in his head, beating against his temples in a painfully incessant rhythm. It made old scars throb and bile rise in his throat. As he was dragged from consciousness by a choking, suffocating darkness, the last thought in his mind was of the warm comforting smell of well-worn leather.

There were no dreams. No nightmares. Just painful memories Castiel had spent years trying to bury and forget. Memories from his years in public school. Strong hands clenching too tight. Burning aches where the sun never shone. Wrists rubbed raw. Never vivid. Never clear. Always blanketed by a bitter layer of fear. Palpable and painful and vague. Ever present and ever incessant. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he started to be able to hear something through the haze of silent blurred images. A slow melody. Faint but clear. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on. Dream on.

Dream on.

Castiel sat bolt upright.

Or at least he tried to, The humming stopped as something jerked out of his ear and a firm hand on his chest stopped him from rising. He started to panic, chest starting to heave again as he struggled to get away from the steady weight on his chest.

  “Cas. Cas! Calm down, kid. Breathe. It’s just me. It’s just me, Cas. C’mon, easy now.”  Castiel’s eyes focused on Dean and stayed there. He couldn’t control his breathing, but his mind quieted a little. He was still hyperventilating, and his vision was going spotty again.

Dean sat Castiel up and took his hand, pressing the palm firmly against the center of his own chest. Castiel could feel the older boy’s heartbeat, strong and even in time with his breathing.

  “Feel that? Breathe when I breathe, okay?”

Castiel ‘s vision was wobbling with each violent shudder that wracked his body.

  “I- I can’t,” He choked out, voice shaking.

Dean pressed his hand more firmly against his chest.

  “I need you to focus, Cas. Narrow down your thoughts to one point. Focus on my breathing. Match it.” His voice was steady as he spoke. Calm, controlled, and commanding.

Castiel tried to obey. He really did. His chest was heaving, making him wheeze inefficient huffs through his teeth.

Dean moved even closer so that Castiel could lean against his shoulder.

  “There. Now you can hear it too. Close your eyes and just listen,” Still commanding, still gentle.

Castiel’s heart gave a terrified double-thump in response to being told to close his eyes, but he forced himself to unclench his jaw and close his eyes.

  “Good.” Cas felt more than heard Dean, with his ear pressed to his shoulder like this. “Now breathe through your nose. Don’t try to match mine just yet.” Just a low rumble that he could feel in his chest.

He closed his mouth, relaxing his jaw, and pulled a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs with the smell of leather and smoke. He could feel himself relaxing. As his breathing slowed, he could start to register other sounds around him.

  “Why didn’t you bring him straight to me. I’m the nurse.” One voice demanded.

  “Winchester got to him first, Jody. I couldn’t pry him away from the poor boy.” Another replied. That was Crowley.

  “He looks like he’s starting to come out of it.” Someone pointed out, sounding relieved.

  “I’ve never seen him come down from a panic attack that quickly. Sam, your brother is something else.”  That was Gabriel’s voice.

  “He knows what he’s doing. Call it personal experience, but he knows exactly how to help someone calm down. He’s a natural at it.” Sam returned.

  “He’s  _ got _ to teach me how to do that. It doesn’t happen often, but Cassie’s panic attacks sometimes take as much as an hour to wind down,” Lucifer commented.

  “How’s Uriel doing?” Crowley asked.

  “I’m not sure. I handcuffed him to my desk and left. Mack and  Naomi fled in a hurry, but I sent Raphael after them. They shouldn’t get far,” Jody answered.

  “Serves the bastard right, doing that to poor Cas,” Crowley growled.

Castiel’s breathing had returned mostly to normal by now, and he opened his eyes. He was on a bench next to the boathouse, Dean sitting next to him on a stump he has dragged over, There was a small crowd gathered near, but keeping a respectful distance. As soon as Castiel looked cognizant, Lucifer tried to rush over, ice-blue eyes wide with worry, but Sam stopped him.

  “He’s just come out of it. Give him a moment,” The younger Winchester reasoned gently in response to Lucifer’s incredulous snarl.

  “He’s right, Luci. Let him come to you. You remember all this,” Gabriel backed Sam up, giving his older brother a knowing look.

Castiel watched Lucifer relent, lips pursed and eyes hooded as he watched Dean comfort his little brother.

  “You back with me now, Cas?” Dean asked, voice quiet and neutral, almost monotone.

Castiel nodded, still shivering slightly.

  “You want to go visit your brothers?” Still gentle.

Another shaky nod.

Dean stood up and helped Castiel to his feet, holding his cabinmate to his side as he slowly walked him over to where Lucifer and Gabriel were waiting, stances pensive.

Castiel staggered over to his brothers as soon as Dean loosened his grip.

  “Shh-shh-shh, Cassie. It’s alright. We’ve got you now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you,” Lucifer soothed quietly, rubbing up and down Castiel’s spine as the youngest of the three buried his face in his brothers’ shoulders, shaking as he tried to quiet his sobs.

  “Are you okay to sleep in Dean’s cabin tonight, or do you want to stay with us?” Gabriel asked, carding his fingers through his little brother’s dark hair.

  “D-Dean will take care of me, right?” Castiel lifted his head and looked at Gabriel, bottom lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

  “Of course he will. Dean will take very good care of you if you need him.” Castiel would have been surprised by Gabriel’s response if he had been thinking straight. He also would have noticed Gabriel raise his head and send a challenging stare at Dean, who was standing next to his brother a little off to the side. 

  “Alright everybody,” Crowley announced. “Nothing to see here; he’s fine. Go back to what you were doing.” 

The crowd started to disperse, murmuring quietly amongst themselves.

Castiel’s mind cleared with a snap, the film that was making his thoughts obscure and convoluted vaporizing in an instant.

  “What happened?” He stepped back, looking between his brothers.

  “You were cornered and tied down by a trio of stereotypical homophobes who - from the looks of it - intended to have their way with you. Dean noticed right as you were being tied to the tree, and sent Sam to get us and Mr. Singer and Crowley. He carried you over to the bench, and wouldn’t let anyone get close to you. He seemed to know what he’s doing though, ‘cause you came down from it pretty quickly,” Gabriel explained, thunderclouds gathering in his tawny eyes as he recounted the events.

  “Who yanked the girl off me?” Castiel remembered the girl’s weight being lifted off him and the girl’s own sharp cry.

  “I don’t know her name. She was short and had long curly dark hair. Yanked her off you by her hair and kicked her ass easier than I’ve seen. Naomi didn’t stand a chance.” Lucifer laughed darkly.

Castiel rubbed at his face, groaning.

Sam and Dean approached Castiel slowly, asking permission of his brothers with a glance.

  “What is it, Cas? Is there something else?” Sam questioned, voice quiet and expression worried.

Castiel shook his head.

  “I didn’t want to get you all dragged into this. I’m so sorry,” He whispered.

Sam gave a small sigh, putting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and turning him so that he was facing the Winchesters.

  “Cas, you’re not  _ dragging _  anyone into anything, Dean dislocated three knuckles beating Uriel off you.  _ We are in this together,  _ okay?” He reasoned firmly, shifting hazel eyes flashing with steel and determination. 

Dean grinned sheepishly at his boots, seemingly unable to meet anyone’s eyes as he flexed his bruised right hand.

Castiel lifted his eyes, looking around. With all these people so willing to help, he couldn’t help but feel safe. He offered a small smile.

  “Thank you. All of you.” He said quietly, eyes flicking from one concerned face to the next.

They each returned the smile, ranging from proud to understanding to blithe to quietly happy.

  “C’mon then. Lunch will be about ready by now, then we can just hang out at the pavilion if you want.” Dean suggested, green eyes still backlit with dark worry.

Cas nodded, before remembering something.

  “Okay, but first, I’m wrapping that hand up. You can’t just brush off  _ three dislocated knuckles _ . Which way is Nurse Mills’ cabin?” He quipped, starting to feel much more like his normal self. 

Dean rolled his eyes, his head lolling to the left in exasperation. 

  “Fine, fine. Jeez, you’re like a mother hen,” He huffed. “It’s just up the hill from the pavilion. The one with the blue tin roof.” He pointed at a sharp glint of metal showing through the trees.

  “Okay, let’s go. It may make me a ‘mother hen’”, Castiel made air quotes as he mocked Dean’s choice of words. “But I’m not letting you go any longer than absolutely necessary without wrapping that up.”

The older boy relented, following Castiel up the hill.

Nurse Mills met them at the door, immediately ushering them inside.

  “I’m so sorry, I should have brought you here immediately, I’m really sorry Castie--” Nurse Mills started to apologize before Castiel cut her off.

  “Nurse Mills, I’m fine. I need some wrappings, please. Or if not me, you could do it.” Castiel didn’t even hesitate, completely forgetting to tell the nurse why they were here. 

Nurse Mills gave Castiel a look that quickly morphed into one of confusion.

  “If you’re okay, then why are you here? Why do you need wrappings?”

Dean gave a sheepish wave from where he stood behind and to the right of Castiel. The nurse’s eyes focused on him and she cocked her head.

  “You don’t look hurt, Dean. Why are you here?” She had probably heard about the shiner Castiel had given him, and was still very befuddled at that point.

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned around, grabbing Dean’s right wrist and lifting the battered hand so the Nurse could see. A look of comprehension automatically fell like a curtain across her face.

  “Dean Thomas Winchester. I swear, if I have to patch you up again within two weeks, then I swear to any holy thing that may be listening that I will wrap you in bubble wrap and stick a football helmet on your head.” She growled as she turned around, rifling through a chest of drawers.

  “I’m sorry, Jody. I didn’t incite it this time, if it’s any consolation.” The bigger boy scratches at the back of his neck, averting his eyes and deciding to study his shoes.

  “Really? I  _ definitely _ haven’t heard that one before.  _ Definitely _ not from you.” She snarks back, standing up with a roll of gauze and an ace bandage,

  “No really, Jody, I--”

  “Don’t fib at me, Winchester.” She cut Dean off with an exasperated sigh.

Castiel, feeling a little awkward, decided to speak up.  “According to Sam, he dislocated three knuckles beating Uriel off me.” He tried his best to give the nurse exactly what  Sam had given him as an explanation. “I practically had to drag him up here by his ear to get him to come to you though.” He added the last bit with a smirk, folding his arms over his chest as Dean scowled at him, pouting his lips in playful frustration.

Jody just laughed.

  “So  _ that’s _ what Crowley meant. He said Winchester got to you first and that he couldn’t pry you out of his arms. Don’t think I’ve heard that old curmudgeon sound so awed by something before.” 

Dean growled something unintelligible and scratched at the back of his neck some more. Jody handed Castiel the wrappings and gestured at a cushy chair in the corner.

  “Um, Nurse Mills? Do you have a stool or something I can use?” Castiel glanced around the small room.

A thought popped into Castiel’s head - quite uninvited, and before he could stop himself, he was speaking again.

  “Actually, nevermind. I’ll be fine.”

_ Castiel James Novak, what in the name of everything holy are you doing!? _ A rational part of his mind shrieked at him. 

Honestly, he didn’t have an answer for it.

Dean had already seated himself in the chair Jody had indicated, and was watching as Castiel strode over and knelt in front of the older boy. He watched as Dean stiffened, sitting a little straighter.

  “Here, let me see your hand.” Castiel knew full well what this must look like to his cabinmate, but he didn’t seem to have much control over his own actions at the moment.

Dean hesitated, before extending his bruised and bloodied right hand. He had apparently split a few knuckles as well, and Castiel was glad Jody had given him pre-medicated gauze. 

  “Dean, two of the dislocated knuckles still need to be put back into place. I’m going to do just that. I need you to stay very still for me, okay?” He glanced up at Dean, whose jaw was clenched as he nodded an affirmative. Castiel shivered at the snarl the older boy tried to keep behind his teeth as Castiel popped both knuckles back into place with little warning and a single swift move.

He took his time wrapping up the hand, movements slow and gentle. Dean was chewing on his bottom lip as he watched the smaller boy tend to his hand. He was very still, just like Castiel asked him to be, and Castiel couldn’t help but wonder just how often he had to be patched up like this.

Castiel stood up as he finished wrapping, tearing off a piece of sports tape with his teeth and securing the wrappings.

  “There. You’re all done.”  He said, holding out a hand to help the other boy to his feet. Dean took it, an odd look on his face, before turning to Jody, who had been watching the whole time, saying nothing.

  “Cas got me all patched up now. Am I allowed to go back to being a boy now?” He joked, shouldering Castiel playfully.

Jody relented with a nod.

  “If he hurts himself again, don’t hesitate to let me know.” She directed the order at Castiel.

  “I will do that, Nurse Mills.” Castiel nodded in reply, earning himself a hissed  _ dude! _ from Dean. “... If I can’t patch him up myself.” He added with a tiny smirk as Jody folded her arms over her chest.

She grumbled something under her breath about Dean being too good at what he does.

  “Thanks again, Jody. Now; It’s lunchtime, and I don't know about you, but I’m hungry.” Dean grabbed Castiel by the elbow and led him out.

The walk down the hill was made in relative silence. Again, it couldn’t  _ really _ be called silence because of the crunch of leaves underfoot and the chatter of the already-full pavilion.

  “Hey, Cas?” Dean started, pausing at the top of the last staircase down to the pavilion.

  “Hello, Dean,” Castiel replied, somewhat confused as to why Dean was greeting him.

Dean’s serious expression dropped and he started laughing, only furthering Castiel’s confusion.

   “Yes, hello. Are you sure you’re okay, Cas? I mean, you just came down from a major panic attack and proceeded to immediately drag me to the medic and bandage me up.” He said once he had finished laughing.

Castiel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion.

  “I assure you, Dean, I am fine. And even if I wasn’t, I doubt you, Sam, Gabriel, or Lucifer will let anyone  _ near _ me for at least the next three hours.” Castiel sighed, exasperated.

  “No, but, are you absolutely positive. You could go straight to the cabin and I could bring you a burger. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The older boy pressed, all humor absent from his green eyes.

Castiel gave Dean a small reassuring smile, eyebrows pulled together sympathetically.

  “Dean. I will be fine. We can go eat lunch, then we can go back and hang out at the cabin. I promise that if I begin to feel uncomfortable I will tell you. Let us go before all of the burgers are gone.” He consoled, continuing his descent.

As Castiel walked into the pavilion, nearly all the chatter went quiet. He almost took a half-step back but decided to listen to Dean’s words from earlier.

_ Just act cool and calm. Chin up, shoulders back, stance strong. _ He could feel his confidence levels spike as he postured himself. Some girl was staring at him, brown eyes large and round. With an extra rush of confidence, he met her gaze and winked, causing her to blush and look away. He felt a small smirk creep across his face and he proceeded toward the line.

He could feel Dean’s presence behind him, large and solid and  _ safe _ . Perhaps that’s where he got that extra boost of confidence.

  “Good posture. You look more confident and steady. Keep that up.” Dean commented, voice low and quiet.

The rest of the time through the line, there was no incident. It was still quiet, but less stiffly so. Castiel and Dean got their burgers and went to sit with Sam and Gabriel and Lucifer and Michael.

  “Hey, Castiel. Luci just briefed me on what happened. Are you feeling better?” Michael gave Castiel a gentle smile from where he was sitting beside the oldest of Castiel’s brothers.

  “Thank you, Michael. I am feeling much better. I just had to take Dean to get his hand taken care of. He had some dislocated knuckles.” Castiel explained, nudging Dean with his elbow.

Michael gave Castiel a knowing smile.

  “Well, Dean-o. Seems like our Cassie feels safe enough with you to shake off a panic attack in a matter of minutes. You’ve got a gift, buck-o.” Gabriel commented, a surprisingly gentle smile on his face.

Dean just shook his head.

  “I learned to do it for Sammy when he was little. I’m just glad I haven’t lost my touch.” He brushed it off, ear tips turning a fair shade of pink.

Castiel subtly leaned into the older boy’s shoulder, trying to offer some support. The tremor that ran through his cabinmate certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

The five of them quickly polished off their lunches, all five of Castiel’s companions insisting that he and Dean go back to their cabin.

    “Thank you, Dean,” Cas broke the quiet they had walked in as they padded through the door to their shared quarters.

The Winchester seemed confused.

    “For what? I just did what anyone with an ounce of decency should’ve,” He once more brushed off Castiel’s attempts to offer his gratitude. Castiel grumbled, but left the subject be. He’d repay his cabinmate for it in his own ways.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry this took so long. I have a very flighty muse, so I don't have the inspiration to write all that often. However, feedback helps lots.  
> \---  
> Comments are my drug. Enable the author.


End file.
